


you're not here, i miss you

by astrogyaru



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Derealization, Episode: e049 Old Oak Doors Part A, Existential Crisis, Freeform, M/M, POV Carlos (Welcome to Night Vale), POV Cecil (Welcome to Night Vale), POV First Person, Poetry, Post-Episode: e048 Renovations, Post-Episode: e049 Old Oak Doors Part B, Spoilers, i don't know how to write poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1844221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrogyaru/pseuds/astrogyaru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's lonely out there, and it's hard to get through the night when you only have good memories of someone to sleep through it with.</p>
<p>(a two part poetry fic from both Cecil and Carlos'  point of view.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the world isn't real today and you're not here

**Author's Note:**

> This is part one, from Cecil's point of view. It takes place somewhere between Renovations and Old Oak Doors A. Part two is from Carlos' point of view and it'll be put up on the first of July (it includes stuff from Old Oak Doors B and I don't want to spoil anyone who didn't see the live show).

I have heard the red dawn,  
loud and tinged with light,  
while watching you sleep.  
I have watched lights shining in the void,  
lights from another world reflected in your eyes,  
weary with life and near-death.

I have felt your skin  
and your hair and breath;  
soft, familiar.

I have held onto you  
in deep nights where I thought that maybe  
it was just me  
here in a dark room,  
a dark world that I made just for myself,  
and you were only a man I imagined.

you kissed me and I remembered  
that I couldn’t fathom the stars that made you.  
I couldn’t fathom so much.

you told me sweetly about  
the moon glowing in the sky,  
secretly into my hair on quiet nights,  
whispers shared low in between meals.  
you gave me propaganda wearing a brilliant smile  
and I smiled back.

a scientist seeks the truth  
and I don’t know if my truths are your truths.  
what is “truth”?  
please come back to our bedside  
and explain it to me with big words  
and a soft voice.

I miss debating the existence of massive stone structures  
rising impossibly from the earth  
over breakfast.

today I am trying to remember  
how it feels to be with you.  
tidbits and memories  
float uselessly in my brain.

you told me I make coffee too strong  
after the second night you stayed over  
but now you brew it the same way,  
and I think about how you’ve changed  
since last june.  
how I’ve changed, too.

I think it’s for the better that  
I know now how to defy impossible black cubes,  
baffling even you,  
who tried to steal you from me by  
telling you that you can be what I’ve always said you were,  
something that isn’t real.

my chest aches and maybe it’s only  
my heart trying to crawl out  
or  
my ribs breaking.

I’ve been thinking too much  
and you’re not here to pet my hair  
and talk me down.  
I’m so alone here and  
I’m not convinced  
that the universe exists outside this room.

you could be here right next to me  
or you couldn’t exist at all  
"existence is the most thrilling fact of all"


	2. time is an illusion and i miss you

I used to use atomic minutes and  
I used to use a watch.  
today I replied to a text you sent me tomorrow  
and a lot of things here aren’t real but  
my shoes are filled with sand  
and my hair is getting long.

I used to plan my life around twenty-four hours  
but one time I still  
accidentally stood you up.

I laid down on the earth to see if I could sleep.  
all I want is to curl up by you and  
I want to hear your voice,  
feel the wavelengths pass through my ears.  
I want my head on your chest  
and the bass of your words in my brain.

do you ever think about how beneath our flesh we are only  
wires  
and strings of information.

I wish I could kiss you.  
I wish my atoms could touch your atoms.  
I wish our dead cells could touch and  
my nerves were on your nerves.  
in the distance I think I see  
the world curling up into things you don’t believe in. 

a reporter can’t not report.  
I’m not where your news applies to me  
but I wish I had a radio  
tuned to you.  
please let me listen to you  
tell me good night  
with gorgeous prose.

I miss our discussions  
about the fabric of the universe  
on late-night walks.

there’s science to be done here  
in this wasteland  
so I’m trying to think about you  
while not crying.

two years ago I caught your words on the radio  
and blood rushed to my face.  
I remember trying to ignore you.  
I can’t believe I was too afraid  
to talk to such a gentle person,  
whose words can talk me out of insomnia.

whose words can talk my pulse  
into different rhythms.  
sweet sentences whispered while I panic,  
while my heart tries to jump away and  
low murmurs into my ear while I’m pinned to something  
and my blood is rushing.

you named me perfect  
and slowly, you realized you were wrong  
and  
I love you.

I’ve been walking for ages  
and you’re not here to hold my hand  
and wash your words over me.  
I’m so alone here but  
I am convinced  
that there’s a way back to you.

thank the imperfect heavens  
and thank dead stars that made us possible  
"your existence is not very likely, but it’s also not impossible"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole thing was just some experimenting and idek ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭  
> Also the words in the quote at the end were deliberately switched around.


End file.
